


The Death of Me

by proprioception



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Face-Fucking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Manhandling, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Size Difference, Size Kink, Sleeping Bag Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:02:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27480907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proprioception/pseuds/proprioception
Summary: Boromir shares his bedroll for warmth in the mountains. Merry and Pippin gang up on him.
Relationships: Boromir (Son of Denethor II) & Merry Brandybuck & Pippin Took, Boromir (Son of Denethor II)/Merry Brandybuck, Boromir (Son of Denethor II)/Merry Brandybuck/Pippin Took, Boromir (Son of Denethor II)/Pippin Took
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	The Death of Me

**Author's Note:**

> A note on consent: Pippin doesn't ask, but Boromir's not complaining.
> 
> Thanks whatiwouldnotgive and mikoshib4 for shrieking positivity at me!!!

Boromir was woken by chattering teeth. He rolled over, still half asleep, and saw that one of the bedrolls was abandoned and the other full of two shivering hobbits.

"Gandalf calls you fools, but I know you aren't _that_ foolish." He lifted up the corner of his bedroll. "Come here, both of you."

Pippin squeaked like he'd been caught stealing fireworks, and then his tremulous voice came out of the yawning entrance of the bedroll that they had both withdrawn into like a two-headed turtle. "Really?"

Merry didn't wait for an answer. He scrambled out of the bedroll, trampling Pippin in his haste.

"I've taught you all I know of swordcraft," Boromir laughed. "It would be a shame to waste all of those bruises."

Boromir had meant to bundle them both to his chest, but Merry climbed into the bedroll at his back. Boromir swore as cold feet burrowed rather intimately between his thighs. Pippin disentangled himself from the bedroll and settled in with his back to Boromir. Boromir curled around his small body, pulling him snug against his chest, and felt Merry press a cold nose between his shoulder blades.

"Why did you say nothing?" Boromir berated them. "There are prettier places to die. And besides, with a few more months to whip you into shape, we may yet get some use out of you."

"You're lucky we like you," Pippin said, sniffling from the cold. "We would not t-tolerate that kind of talk from just any great big oafish Man."

Boromir laughed softly, deep in his chest, and Pippin squirmed against him.

"He's right," Merry said, but he was clearly fading fast. "You're… lucky."

Boromir, barely half awake in the first place, felt sleep dragging him back under, but Pippin couldn't seem to get comfortable. He burrowed deeper into the bedroll until Boromir was sure he must be suffocating, but still he would not be still. Merry let out a soft snore, and Boromir wanted to join him.

"Pippin," he grumbled.

Pippin ignored him, and alarm shocked Boromir awake when he realized his squirming had gotten his body's attention.

"Pippin," he hissed, more urgently, but the hobbit was intent on demonstrating his complete inability to listen to anyone. Boromir tightened his arms around Pippin, trying to constrict him into stillness, but all it did was help Pippin's cause, trapping Boromir's stiffening prick against his backside. Pippin turned his head to grin at him out of the corner of his eye, and very deliberately rubbed back against him.

Boromir released him, seeing the futility of it. "You little—" he bit his tongue viciously when Pippin reached back to cup the front of his underclothes and squeeze.

Boromir batted his hand away and pulled the intolerable little hobbit up against his chest, pulling him out of reach of Boromir's irreversible hard-on.

"You are a terror," he growled into Pippin's ear, and he felt Pippin tremble against him. Boromir smirked, and reached around Pippin to discover that at least he was similarly affected. "What a shame you are such an easily overpowered terror without your accomplice." He hooked his chin on Pippin's shoulder and pulled the hobbit snug against him as he rubbed the heel of his hand against the bulge in his trousers.

Pippin let out an indignant huff, but ground his hips against Boromir's hand nevertheless. After a moment, he pushed Boromir's hand away and Boromir froze in horror before Pippin took his hand and replaced it on his now-exposed prick. Boromir released his breath in relief, and raised his palm to lick it. Pippin caught his hand again and licked it himself, surprising a low groan out of Boromir when his hot wet tongue swiped between his fingers. Boromir froze, worried he had woken the other hobbit, but Merry remained quiet and still.

Boromir swore quietly when Pippin bit his finger. He tightened his arm around Pippin's chest. "None of that, now," he murmured, and took Pippin's hard little cock in hand. He was so small, Boromir just made a ring with his first two fingers to stroke him off, and Pippin arched against him and kicked at his knees, so Boromir guessed it felt good enough.

He let Pippin thrust into his hand at first, then shifted his hold on him lower so that Pippin couldn't move his hips. The hobbit writhed, but when it became clear he wasn't going anywhere, he let his head fall back against Boromir's shoulder and huffed out a pitiful little, "Please."

Boromir grinned, and murmured into his ear, barely breathing the words he was so quiet. "Please, I like that. Please what? Do you like it when I hold you still? Keep you from having too much fun?"

Pippin shook his head, but his cock pulsed in Boromir's hand.

"Are you sure about that, little one?" he asked. He nipped at Pippin's ear, and Pippin's breaths grew deep and loud. Boromir clapped his hand over Pippin's mouth just in time for him to mewl and shudder against his chest. Boromir pressed his smile into Pippin's neck as he trembled through his orgasm, and finally went boneless in Boromir's arms.

Boromir panicked momentarily when he remembered Merry behind him, but the breath on the back of his neck was soft and even, and he hadn't even stirred.

Pippin arched in a stretch, complete with a loud yawn, and Boromir's hold on his waist loosened. Pippin grabbed his wrist and brought Boromir's messy hand to his mouth. Boromir only had time to open his mouth before Pippin's diabolical little mouth had closed around the tip of his first finger, and a hoarse little, "Hnngh," came out. He could feel Pippin smile, and his sharp little teeth pricked Boromir's finger before he licked the rest of his hand clean.

"Pippin," Boromir murmured, somewhere between censure, gratitude, wonder, and amusement. "You continue to surprise me."

Pippin squirmed around to look up at him, and his smile was as smug as it was mischievous. "You're a very slow learner." And with that, he burrowed deeper into the bedroll, his small hands lighting up a path down Boromir's chest until they unfastened his flimsy sleep trousers.

Yes, Boromir supposed that he was, because he had to cover his mouth when Pippin licked coyly at his cock. It was too dark down in the bedroll, but Boromir didn't need to see his face to know there was a smirk on it. He was in the middle of thanking the Valar that Pippin's mouth was too small to fit his cock when he was proven very wrong. He grabbed a handful of Pippin's hair without thinking and froze, but Pippin took his cock even deeper, and Boromir couldn't restrain himself. He couldn't thrust, for fear of waking Merry, if by some miracle he was actually still asleep, so he pulled Pippin down onto his cock once, twice, and the third time his cock slid home in the tight wet heat of Pippin's throat, he came with a muffled grunt.

His mind went white, everything shoved to the periphery for a few long seconds except for the waves of hot-sweet pleasure and the absolute need to be quiet. He only remembered to let Pippin go when he pushed back against Boromir's hand. The hobbit took in a rattling breath and coughed quietly. He considerately put Boromir's prick away and refastened his trousers before crawling back up Boromir's body to smirk up at him.

"I think I'm ready for bed now," he said innocently. "I'm quite warm." He rolled over and plastered himself back against Boromir's chest. Boromir would have been astonished how quickly Pippin started snoring if he himself wasn't already well on his way to sleep, between the orgasm and finally feeling _warm_ for the first time in days. Even his feet were warm, he noticed vaguely before nodding off.

* * *

Merry kicked Boromir awake in the process of escaping the bedroll the next morning, and Boromir grumbled inarticulately before he remembered that Merry had a very good reason to be rude. He winced and let Merry leave the tent before stirring. He prodded Pippin, who had wrapped himself around Boromir's arm draped over him. Pippin only tightened his grip and resisted any attempts at dislodging.

"Pippin," Boromir growled, his voice low and gravelly with sleep. "I swear…"

He hadn't meant it as a tease, but Pippin bit his lip and grinned despite himself, his eyes squeezed shut but no longer convincingly.

"What?" Pippin whispered. "What do you swear?"

Boromir chuckled. "You are incorrigible."

"You don't need to swear that," he said matter-of-factly. "Nobody will dispute that."

"I'm going to toss you out of this tent," Boromir threatened emptily.

"Not if you want me to keep you warm again tonight, you won't," Pippin said cheerfully, and slithered out of Boromir's arms and the bedroll faster than he could react.

Boromir licked his lips before he could stop himself, and Pippin smirked. The hobbit started to pack up his cold bedroll and was looking very intent on it when Merry came back with food. Pippin looked up expectantly, but Merry had retrieved only his own breakfast. Pippin narrowed his eyes, but Merry casually ignored him, crunching away at an apple.

Boromir bit the inside of his cheek, and an apology was on the tip of his tongue when Merry caught his eye and smirked. It was not a pleasant smile, but it wasn't an offended one either. He just looked annoyed. Boromir looked away, embarrassed, and ducked out of the tent after breakfast. Maybe Pippin and Merry would talk it out themselves and leave Boromir out of the conflict entirely. It would be more than he deserved, but he could hope.

Aragorn sat by the fire sipping at the broth leftover from last night's stew. He looked up at Boromir's approach and his brow furrowed in concern. "Is all well, Boromir?"

Boromir frowned in confusion. "All is fine. Why?"

Aragorn shrugged. "Merry said you did not sleep."

Boromir fought the urge to roll his eyes. "I slept enough." Luckily, no more conversation was expected of him while he bolted down his breakfast. He lingered by the fire for a few moments longer, already missing the warmth of the two hobbits, before returning to take the tent down.

* * *

The steady climb kept Boromir from shivering, but his feet ached with the cold; he simply did not understand how none of the hobbits had lost a single toe to frostbite yet.

Frostbite-immune or not, though, Merry and Pippin, at least, were still shivering even after dinner by the fire. Boromir put the tent up and they hurried inside to pile into his bedroll. Merry apparently wasn't annoyed enough by the previous night's antics to turn up his nose at the promise of three times the body heat. 

Boromir remained by the fire for a few minutes longer, finishing his dinner and listening to Gandalf and Aragorn discuss how little they liked the current road and how they liked each alternative even less. It was a cheerless conversation, and Boromir soon left them to it.

"—is _huge_ , Merry," Pippin was saying when Boromir stuck his head into the tent. "I mean, look at him. And then use your imagination."

Pippin had his back to the tent opening, but Merry saw Boromir immediately. Pippin cheerfully did not notice Merry's heated look, even when his bright eyes remained fixed on Boromir.

"His hands are also _quite_ nice. Very large and clumsy, but if you like it rough…" he trailed off with an audible smile, then turned and smirked over his shoulder at Boromir. "Perfectly adequate."

Boromir closed his mouth with a considerable effort. He stepped into the tent and fastened it against the wind and snow. He turned to glare at the hobbits. "You are—"

"A terror?" Merry suggested with a smirk. He seemed in a much better mood now.

"With an accomplice," Pippin piped up.

Boromir raked a hand through his hair. "You two will be the death of me," he sighed.

Merry grinned. "Probably."

"Let's warm up first," Pippin announced, teeth beginning to chatter. 

Boromir's protective instincts overrode both his desire and his apprehension. He stripped down to his underclothes and slid into the bedroll, chafing his legs together to warm up the blankets. Pippin curled up against Boromir's chest again, and again showed no signs of settling. Merry slipped in behind him, but this time instead of falling asleep or pretending to, he buried his cold nose in Boromir's hair and wedged his cold fingers into Boromir's armpit. 

They lay like that for several minutes, warming up, and Boromir began to absently stroke Pippin's hair. He remembered how Pippin had reacted when he nibbled on his ear, so he began to drag his fingers softly, incidentally along the edge of his pointed ears. 

The third time he did it, Pippin let out a soft, raw noise of want. Boromir had successfully distracted Pippin from arousing him by sheer persistence, but he found himself getting hard anyway. He cradled Pippin's head close and kissed at his ear and neck, and made sure the hobbit noticed the effect he was having. 

"I see you've discovered his ears," Merry said haughtily into his ear, like Boromir was a tardy guest he'd been waiting up for. "He's even more sensitive there than your average hobbit, which is saying something." The slight disdain seemed to take a backseat to Merry's obvious investment in Pippin's pleasure. He said it like one giving a friend presumptive advice, but there was heat in his voice that spoke of firsthand experience.

Boromir pulled back from Pippin's ear, bemused, and craned his neck to get a look at Merry out of the corner of his eye. Merry cupped his cheek in one small hand and surprised him with a kiss. 

Boromir made a small noise of pleased surprise, and kissed back as well as he could twisted around like this. Merry kissed with the attitude he'd had this morning—annoyed, but not enough to let it keep him from more fun—and with unapologetic gluttony, open-mouthed and insistent and wet. He bit Boromir's lips and then released him some time after Pippin started complaining about Merry being a distraction.

Boromir, after he shook the daze of a very thorough kiss, grabbed Pippin around his waist. "Oh don't worry, little one, I have plenty of time for both of you," he growled, making sure his nose and mouth tickled Pippin's quivering ear.

Pippin whimpered and kicked his little feet.

"What was that?" Merry asked, craning his neck over Boromir's shoulder to watch Pippin squirm. "Come again, Pip?"

Pippin pouted over his shoulder at Merry. "Turncoat," he accused.

Merry scoffed. "You're the one who fucked the Man without me."

"Technically speaking, you were there," Pippin pointed out.

Merry practically climbed up Boromir's shoulder to glare down at him. "And then _bragged_ about it!" He let go of Boromir's shoulder with a _humph_. "You've earned every turn my coat feels like making."

Boromir chuckled, but it died in his throat as Merry's ire turned on him. Hot breath fogged the back of his neck, and Merry's voice came soft and velvety in his ear. "You seem to have cottoned onto this, but he likes it rough." Boromir nodded, keeping his vice grip on Pippin's waist, but otherwise completely still. "Oh, don't let me spoil your fun," Merry said dryly. "But I'll tell you this: an oral fixation, this one's got." 

Boromir laughed again, though his mouth was dry. "I noticed." Merry made him nervous in a way that Pippin didn't. Pippin he could handle, but he was convinced that Merry would seize any opportunity to lead him around by the balls. He seemed content to watch for now, although his erection was increasingly obvious, pressed into Boromir's back.

Boromir returned his attention to Pippin, who was pouting wholeheartedly. He pulled him close and buried his face in Pippin's neck, just breathing him in. He smelled like smoke and seasoning—like a meal, and Boromir was so tempted to bite into him like one. He scraped his teeth against Pippin's throat, and Pippin whined and squirmed at the same time that Merry whispered in Boromir's ear, "Do it. Hard."

Boromir groaned and obeyed, licking Pippin's neck and then sinking his teeth into it.

Pippin cried out a split second before Boromir's hand clapped over his mouth. They all three froze for a long moment, but the barely audible murmur of conversation from the fireside went on undisturbed.

"Pippin!" Merry hissed.

Pippin patted Boromir's hand and Boromir released him doubtfully. "It was your fault," he exclaimed. "You told him to do it!"

Boromir manhandled him around, which shut him up. He was wide-eyed and pink-cheeked, and Boromir chuckled when he looked nervously up at Merry.

"I'm told," Boromir rumbled, leaning in close so that their mouths brushed with every word. "You have an 'oral fixation.'"

Pippin couldn't manage more than a shaky exhale, and Boromir licked his top lip. He really wasn't a teaser for teasing's sake, but Merry's comment had intrigued him. He gave Pippin half a kiss, and sucked on his bottom lip. He released it with a pop, and Pippin's lust-hazy look sharpened into righteous determination. He grabbed Boromir's collar and pulled. Boromir didn't budge, enjoying the tease, but Pippin just pulled himself up. Boromir couldn't deny him then; he wrapped his arms around the hobbit and returned the kiss enthusiastically.

When Pippin started to rub up against him, Boromir took pity. He lowered Pippin gently to the bedroll and hovered over him, considering.

Merry startled him by yanking at his shoulder. Boromir let himself be pushed onto his back, more curious than anything else, and Pippin sat up with the typical light of trouble in his eyes. Pippin climbed on top of him before it could make Boromir nervous and bent down to kiss him. He was a greedy kisser too, but greedy in the way he grabbed Boromir's hand and put it on his ass. Boromir grinned into the kiss and pulled Pippin against him by the ass with both hands. Pippin gasped, breaking the kiss, and let his forehead fall to Boromir's shoulder. 

"That," he whimpered. "That. Do that again."

Boromir raised his eyebrows and repeated the motion, and chuckled when he realized Pippin's cock was dragging against his chest through trousers and nightshirt. "Is that right?" he murmured. Boromir started undoing the ties on his shirt, and Pippin licked his lips, wide-eyed, and fell off of Boromir in a suddenly desperate attempt to escape his trousers. When he straddled Boromir again, and Boromir ground his naked cock against his bare chest, Pippin fell forward with his hands braced on Boromir's shoulders and _mewled_. 

"That's better, isn't it?" Boromir rumbled. "Bare skin is always better." He watched Pippin's eyelids flutter, and he moaned softly as Boromir worked his hips back and forth. "You have to be quiet, little one," Boromir murmured. He raised one hand to touch Pippin's lips, and Pippin sucked one finger into the heat of his mouth. Boromir grinned. "As much as I want to, I can't keep your little mouth full _and_ get you off like this," he said regretfully, squeezing Pippin's ass with his free hand.

Merry laughed softly. "I'll shut him up," he said smugly, and climbed astride Boromir behind Pippin. He settled on top of Boromir's barely contained erection. That wiped the smile off his face. "Pippin," he hissed. "You weren't kidding."

Pippin pulled off Boromir's finger with a pop. "I don't kid about things like that." He raised his eyebrows impatiently at Boromir, but as soon as he started to move, catching Pippin's prick between his own stomach and Boromir's sweat-slick sternum, he was all whimpers and moans and gasps. Merry sidled up behind him and fed three fingers into his mouth, and Pippin quieted.

"That's right," Boromir panted. "Just loud enough for me to know you're having a good time." He stopped, and watched Pippin cast a despairing glance down at him. "But even if you weren't… I think you like this," Boromir said, picking back up at a pace that made Pippin's back arch helplessly. "I'm going to finish you whether you like it or not. It's not up to you. Tell me to stop," he said breathlessly. "Do it."

Pippin shook his head furiously, squeezing his eyes shut, and with no more warning than a muffled sob, hot cum pulsed up Boromir's chest. Boromir slowed his movements and realized his own breathing was far too heavy for the exertion. He was _hard_. Pippin pushed himself upright and leaned back with a huge sigh.

"Oh, that was good," he panted. He glanced down at Boromir's chest and grinned. "You made a mess."

Boromir snorted. " _You_ made a mess, and you're going to clean it up."

If he thought Pippin would offer even token resistance, he was mistaken; Pippin _lit up_. He slid off of Boromir's chest, looking a little wobbly, and leaned down to lick the cum from his chest. "That's it," Boromir murmured, and stroked a hand over Pippin's head and down his back encouragingly.

Merry grinned. "Oral fixation," he said smugly.

Pippin looked up to fire back, "You're just jealous."

Merry rocked his hips and bit his lip with a grin. "I don't know, Pip, I think I've got the best seat in the house."

Boromir chuckled, but it turned into a groan when Merry started rolling his hips again. Pippin resumed licking his chest clean, and when he came to a nipple and started swirling his tongue around it, Boromir's hips jerked up and he covered his mouth.

"Pippin, stop," Merry ordered.

Boromir opened his eyes to glare, but Merry was smirking. Merry shifted back so he could undo Boromir's trousers, and his eyes widened as he pulled his prick out. 

"Are all Men this big?" he whispered.

Boromir laughed, louder than he ought. "Some are bigger," he said, just for the mixed horror and hunger on Merry's face. "But no, most are not."

Merry exhaled slowly. "I… don't think this will fit," he admitted.

Boromir bit his lip and he watched Merry's eyes widen as his cock pulsed in his hands. "Even for Men, it… takes practice," he chuckled, trying and failing not to sound smug.

Merry's chin was set with determination as he wrapped both hands around Boromir's cock, and licked his lips when it was clear it would indeed take two hands. Boromir took a deep breath and clamped his free hand around Merry's thigh.

"Be patient," Merry said, and a growl was building in Boromir's throat until Merry smirked knowingly at Pippin, and the younger hobbit leaned in and nipped at his chest. Between the sharp teeth scraping over one nipple, and Merry's hands tightening around him, Boromir let out a groan louder than he meant to, and it was Pippin's turn to clap a hand over his mouth.

Pippin laughed when his eyes flew open, and his easy smile cut Boromir's indignation out from under him. Boromir grinned and reined Pippin in. He sprawled half across Boromir's chest and kissed him, lazy and playful when he wasn't being actively teased.

Merry's grip slackened on his cock, but Boromir barely noticed until Merry added his own cock to the tight circle of his hands and started jerking them off in earnest. Boromir gasped and bucked his hips. Pippin watched him with almost vindictive pleasure, and leaned in to swipe his tongue through the last of the cum across his collarbone. He kept licking and kissing up Boromir's neck, and left a nasty hickey below his ear the likes of which only clever hobbit mouths can manage.

Merry was panting as heavily as Boromir. His hips were bucking against his own grip, and Boromir was shocked how much better Merry's hands felt around him with the hobbit's little cock pressed between them.

"Merry," he grunted. "If you don't— _nngh_ , that's good."

Pippin took this as his cue, and sprawled against Boromir's chest once more to lick and suck at one nipple and pinch and tweak the other one with his fingers.

Boromir brought his knees up behind Merry and planted his feet. Merry pushed their cocks through the circle of his fingers one more time, twice more, and Boromir arched up off the bedroll and came, his cry muffled by Pippin's hand.

Merry watched Boromir's cock spurt over his fingers and let out a labored breath. He fucked his hips up into his slickening grip a few more times before he threw his head back with his bottom lip clamped between his teeth, and Boromir felt another gush of warmth over his cock.

Boromir hissed as his orgasm receded and every pulse of Merry's cock against his burned with oversensitivity. Merry finally relaxed, like his orgasm had wrung him out, and let out a breathy little laugh as he looked down at his hands, which were covered in cum.

Boromir felt the need to apologize, absurdly. Instead he fumbled for the nearest discarded clothes, and offered them to Merry.

Pippin grabbed a kerchief poking out of the jacket pocket and passed it on to Merry. "A bigger load for a beefier horse," he snickered.

Merry looked a little star-struck by it. "Well, I am from Buckland."

Pippin covered his mouth and laughed until he wept.

Boromir just frowned.

"We don't mind getting wet," Merry shrugged.

**Author's Note:**

> You have ao3 user whatiwouldnotgive to thank for Merry's size kink. 😇
> 
> Pls hmu on twitter @hornyofgondor if you wanna talk about ridiculous lotr porn


End file.
